muse.

a.k.a the romanticization of vices

Fingers itching for a cigarette,
he picks up a pen instead.
Half a bottle of vodka
and he's vomiting
love songs onto table napkins;
mind a jumbled mess
of her smile, her laugh, her kiss,
her skin against his lips,
her hand in his.

And how he let it go.

Reviews

[B]

The object of his desire
is she like another f*g
or those he left on the rocks by the bar
he will never know
until he leaves his comfort zone of writing and delve into life
love the retro sense in your work